


Academic time travel

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCJawwn)



Series: WIP collection [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, M/M, Multi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCJawwn/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: “Looking for a third member for our project to try for a grant from the IFTTR. Focused on applying for a stay in France early 1800’s.” And added hastily at the end was “If you know who Christophe Giacometti is, please hit us up!”...Otabek, Phichit and Yuuri are granted the exclusive chance of time travelling to complete their academic projects, and may or may not find much more than they were looking for.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri & Otabek Altin
Series: WIP collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158185
Kudos: 7





	Academic time travel

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just screams academic wish fulfillment *sigh*

Otabek had seen the sign on one of the holographic boards around the cafeteria. He wouldn’t usually pay them much mind, as most were just people announcing their clubs or looking for missing things, but right then it was around 400 hours and he probably hadn’t slept more than 6 hours in total the entire week. Standing in front of the illuminated signs as he drank a now cold coffee was about all his brain allowed him to do. 

The sign came into view following a string of “people looking for a study partner” posts, and the first thing that his eyes focused on was **IFTTR**. Not a lot of people made announcements regarding the Intergalactic Fund for Time Travel Research, and certainly not one that read “Looking for a third member for our project to try for a grant from the IFTTR. Focused on applying for a stay in France early 1800’s.” And added hastily at the end was “If you know who Christophe Giacometti is, please hit us up!” Followed finally by a contact. 

Otabek knew it was not a grand idea to send them a text. Indeed he had already been working on his final project proposal on no one less than Christophe Giacometti, but he wasn’t even graduated yet. Perhaps if he hadn’t been sleep deprived as hell and on the verge of crying every time he thought about his thesis, Otabek would have not grabbed his phone at that moment. But then, it all seemed to align too well for him not to do _something_. 

_\- My thesis is in Christophe Giacometti’s diaries and how they reflect a queer perspective of the period.-_

He had not even expected a reply at all, much less one at lightning speed. 

_\- Fuck yeah! He’s awesome! Stranger, no one else knows this genius of a man, we’re clearly destined to be working together!!!-_

Otabek found a bench to just flop down on and continued typing back and forth with this excitable stranger, who didn’t take long to introduce himself as Phichit, a masters fashion student specializing in Giacometti's haute couture career. Otabek hadn’t really considered that anyone here would have paid much attention to this underrated 19th century swiss man, but he was quite wrong after all. This all felt like being hit by a speeding rocket, to be honest. Phichit was already talking about having all of them meet the sooner the better so they could begin to discuss how to structure their project. Otabek should have said he needed some sleep first, but then he remembered that his room held his work pad with the current version of his thesis proposal - which had been butchered by his advisor just that morning, with “suggestions” that made absolutely no sense for his thesis (he was pretty sure she hadn’t even read his proposal in the first place). 

_-Sure, where?_

_-Emil’s cafe? The one with the blue neon sign_

Otabek just sent a simple “-K-” back as he got up and, with all the energy he didn’t have, rushed towards the transporter connecting the campus part of the station to the housing and commerce section. He had always sort of imagined the vague possibility of being chosen for an IFTTR grant, but certainly not before he actually graduated from university. Many people that came to study here dreamed to be one of the twenty chosen each standard year to actually go back in time to experience long gone study subjects first hand. His parents had been so proud when he got in. Otabek did work very hard in his studies, and he knew there was a non-null chance it would actually happen, but being faced with the prospect so soon had him off kilter already. 

Emil’s place was not too far from one of the rover tram stations, just a tiny place some students frequented for good coffee. As he approached he spotted only two people sitting there, far too early for most of the clientele. An excitable man shot up and waved him over. 

“You must be the Giacometti fan!” The person he assumed to be Phichit hugged him. “Love your shirt!” Otabek was shocked by how much energy this man had at this ungodly hour.

“Thanks…Phichit?” 

“Exactly! I’m Phichit, he him his. And this is my best friend and luckiest research partner.” He gestured to the person sitting next to him, excitement shining in his eyes.

“Katsuki Yuuri, they them theirs. Music PHD.” Yuuri definitely looked older and like they also had not done a lot of sleeping in the recent past. “Phichit said you are looking into Giacometti in the context of queer history?”

Otabek nodded as he sat down across the table from the other two, feeling somewhat unprepared. “Yeah, Otabek Altin, he him his. It's the project I’m working on for my graduation paper. His diaries offer a very interesting view of what was being gay in early 1820’s France, though it isn’t too helpful that he seems to avoid using any names, so we can’t actually identify most people in his life.” He thought for a moment that he’d have lost them in that last part, but surprisingly that wasn’t the case at all.

“No mentions of Nikiforov, I imagine?” Yuuri had almost perked up asking that question. Clearly enough that was his subject of study and interest.

“Not many, no. More if one considers the ‘russian friend’ he mentions loving deeply is probably Nikiforov.”

Yuuri deflated a bit, and Phichit chimed back in. “Don’t say that, you will break Yuu’s heart. They are very much in love with Nikiforov.” The older person just rolled their eyes, but a blush had definitely appeared on their cheeks. “Anyway, Otabek, the program this year focuses on recovering and acknowledging queer people from our human past so… All our topics seem to match quite well with that theme. And you’ve passed my basic standards: you are queer, you love Giacometti, and you were decent to Yuuri. So, wanna join and get to meet the coolest Swiss in all of history?!”

Otabek had sort of accepted this ride his body seemed to be on, so he just nodded and let Phichit be excited for the three of them. 

……………

Phichit finished his fifth round pacing the room they were currently waiting at, all the while drinking his fourth can of energy drink since waking up way too early that morning. The past three months they had spent preparing for the presentation of their project, rest being low on the list of priorities. Now their part was done though, they had come before the IFTTR evaluation board, with Celestino standing there as their advisor and main supporter. The whole thing had pumped so much adrenaline into his bloodstream that Phichit was sure he would not be able to sleep anytime soon regardless of exhaustion. Totally the opposite of their young research partner, as Otabek had literally just sat on an armchair as soon as they were directed to this waiting room and passed the fuck out. Ah, to be young and functional. Yuuri was unsurprisingly awake alongside him, having gone from panic attack to “fuck this” in a matter of one presentation. 

It was all off their hands now, all left to do was wait. He finished his drink and threw the can from across the room to the garbage can with precision on the first try. Gods, how much time had passed since they got here? Five minutes? One hour? Phichit needed to know if they’d been approved, if he’d be able to meet Giacometti after all. He had admired the tailor ever since he knew what tailoring _was_ , over fifteen years of a very professional crush. 

The door slid open and Celestino stepped in, stopping Phichit dead on his tracks. Behind him he could hear Yuuri waking Otabek up, all three of them holding their breaths for the moment of truth. The taller man had a stone cold face on, and for a moment he was sure of the worst, but only a few seconds later his former professor gave up on the charade and broke into the biggest smile he had ever seen (which was definitely saying something).

“You’ve been approved!” 

Phichit didn’t cry at those words, though he could feel as if a months old knot in his throat was finally loose. He pulled Yuuri in for a tight hug, kissing their temple as they teared up, and a moment later his other arm was reaching for Otabek too, who just seemed to be in absolute shock. 

“Look if it isn’t the youngest person to be accepted for this project ever!” Phichit had once hoped he could be the one to have those honors, but fuck, Otabek had worked hard for this. Anyway, he was still the youngest masters student to do it, so his ego wasn’t all that bruised. Not that any of that mattered when he was going to get to meet Christophe Fucking Giacometti. He’d see the most groundbreaking tailor of his time up close, he might even get to _touch_ an original Giacometti. 

“I gotta call my family with the good news.” Yuuri sounded happier than they had in quite a while, almost clumsy with excitement as they took their phone out. 

Otabek nodded at that, sneaking out of the hug and stepping to the side to do the same. Phichit felt sorta awkward, looking around for a moment. There was no one for him to call, no living family for him to celebrate with from even before he’d gotten into university. All the people he would have wanted to tell about it were already here. 

He was a bit caught off guard when Celestino took his face between his big hands, patting his squished cheeks. It was surprisingly soothing, to be honest.

“So proud of you, my boy! I knew you could do it!” Phichit stared at the professor for a moment before grinning widely alongside him. “I’m taking the three of you somewhere to celebrate!” 

“Not gonna say no to that. Your treat?” Phichit fluttered his eyelashes, trying to put on his best puppy dog expression. 

“Sure thing.” Celestino patted his head in an affectionate gesture, still seeming as excited as they were.

They moved away from the other two as they talked to their respective relatives, staving away the awkwardness by discussing the many forms to fill and preparations to finish before travelling. Phichit was well aware that the next six months would be absolute madness, but it would be the best kind of madness. A couple minutes in their call, Yuuri walked over and handed him the phone instead so he could get all the Katsuki’s congratulating him on everything like the cinnamon rolls they absolutely were. He could see from the edge of his vision that Yuuri was back to ugly crying now, and needed a moment to recover themselves from the emotional journey.

“Where do the three of you wanna eat? No french cuisine allowed.” Celestino declared as they headed towards the rover tram station.

Otabek shrugged, and of course Yuuri was the first to answer. “They have this real nice katsudon...”

Phichit allowed himself to laugh and ruffle their hair. It was sort of adorable how that was always their go to comfort food when prompted. Still he supposed they should try and get as much of non french food as possible before they got to Paris.

“Katsudon is nice.” Otabek agreed, smiling softly. 

………………

Yuuri felt weird. The anxiety was no longer quite there, just quietly buzzing in the back of their mind. Maybe they had become somewhat numb to it, or the excitement for the impending time travel was just overpowering it for now. 

The last few months had been spent in preparation, so intense that it made them reconsider everything. They had taken vaccines for every possible disease that was now extinct but could still be around back then. They had learned the most appropriate possible version of French for the period they would be visiting and the cover stories they chose. All three of them had gone through so many specialised classes and medical check ups to make sure their transition into Paris in the 1820’s was absolutely seamless that by now it was all honestly a blur in Yuuri's mind. 

It did help that Phichit was being responsible for their time appropriate wardrobe, though. Their shared living space had been consumed by designs and models throughout these months, and seeing their friend so excited was very uplifting. 

The psychological exams had been exhausting. A therapist appointed by the programme had worked with them in preparation for their travel. A lot had been discussed regarding their cover stories, especially because they settled on passing as three upper middle class travellers - all men. Yuuri couldn’t say the perspective of spending a year being misgendered was the best feeling they had experienced, but they _had_ survived adolescence before they gathered the will to open up and talk about it with their family for the first time. This programme was only going to last a year, and they would have Otabek and Phichit helping with that. Yuuri had decided this hardship was worth it, and was determined that they could endure all of that for a chance of figuring out what had happened to Nikiforov and his never released compositions. They could do it. Perhaps it was pathetic to have such strong feelings for a man he could never actually meet, but they couldn't help the profound connection they felt with the man's work, or the absolute wonder of looking at how beautiful he was in that one glorious painting commissioned by Giacometti. 

Yuuri took a deep breath, adjusting the travel coat over their clothes, in what would be their last time in a modern bathroom for a year. The white bright lights made Yuuri feel like they looked sick. Pale and wearing outfits that made them look like a proper 1820’s young man they barely recognized themself. To their side Otabek was injecting a T shot, also a last before they all left, and Phichit was triple checking his suitcase was filled with everything they needed. Yuuri could hear their best friend muttering yet again about how he was downright suffering about being obligated to make such generic and plain clothing for the sake of fitting into their temporary life with the least amount of issues possible. They couldn’t contain a smile at that, once more feeling bone deep relief Phichit would be at their side during all this. 

“People, twenty minutes till it is time to go.” Celestino informed them from the door. 

Yuuri took another deep breath and stepped away from the mirror. Taking their cellphone in their hands for one last time, they checked the messages Mari had sent them earlier today. Wishing them luck on their project, telling them to bring souvenirs (which Yuuri had informed her would be against the very strict rules of the project) and lamenting her sibling would not be there for the final opening of the weird family relic. Yuuri had joked with her that perhaps it would be cursed scrolls from the beginning of times, one of the many absurd theories they had come up with throughout the years. Yuuri looked at the picture their family had sent, of all of the Katsukis plus Minako-sensei (who had been so proud of them and insisted when they returned she needed to hear all the details of whatever news of Nikiforov they brought first hand), and tears filled their eyes. Yuuri finally deactivated the device, and handed it over to Celestino. 

“I’m going to take good care of this, Yuuri. Don't you worry.”  
“Thank you, Celestino.” They whispered back, picking up the leather suitcase assigned to them. “I’ll make sure Viktor does not stay forgotten in history.”

“He didn’t, my child. You remember him already.” Celestino reminded them with a good natured wink, then gave them one last hug before patting their back and sending them down the hallway. Yuuri could hear him giving a similar line to both Phichit and Otabek, who were also visibly bracing themselves for the final plunge. 

As the trio walked down the white and sterile hallway towards the room where precious few time travel pods were kept. Yuuri could feel their heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of their chest. It was exciting and an honor, but also the most dangerous thing Yuuri would ever do in their life. There was only one way for them to return to their time, a device not unlike a small padd currently being carried by Phichit in his bag. There were stories of groups of academics, some of the first to travel, who never returned because they lost or broke their devices. There was no lifesaver if anything happened to that thing. It was a lot of pressure on their shoulders, and yet Yuuri could not second guess their choice. This was the chance of a lifetime, their golden opportunity for a unique thesis. This was the biggest academic honor they would ever be a part of, and no amount of fear could dissuade them now. 

It surely helped that the truth about Viktor Nikiforov was somewhere on the other side of the trip. 

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> We have so many notes on this au! Please feel free to ask anything, we'd be more than happy to discuss it while we don't actually have the energy to write more atm


End file.
